


consider the hairpin turn

by theinvisibledisaster



Series: It's a Love Story After All [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellamy Blake POV, Big Soulmate Energy, Canon Speculation, Canon divergence (probably), Clarke Griffin POV, Josephine Lightbourne Possessing Clarke Griffin, Post 6x05, Queliot Feels, and josephine is a Bad Bitch, in which Bellamy is woefully transparent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:12:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19029886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisibledisaster/pseuds/theinvisibledisaster
Summary: tumblr drabbles and prompts1. Bellarke's version of "peaches and plums motherf--"2.





	consider the hairpin turn

**Author's Note:**

> hi, i'm back at it again
> 
> the title is from You Are Jeff by Richard Siken again, because that poem is full of amazing lines and I'm basically just trying to get everyone to read it and embrace the weirdness with me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: "kinda hoping that Clarke only regains control temporarily at first while she fights with Josephine and she'll have to prove to everyone (Bellamy) that it's her and we get a blarke version of "peaches and plums, moherfucker" because it's what they (we) deserve!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen i don’t know what happened, but you awakened my queliot feels and i had to turn that angst into something, so this is what you get.

Bellamy had been watching her all night. 

Once Josephine started developing the headaches, they’d noticed her behaving oddly, and then during a meeting she’d collapsed to the floor and when Russell had reached out to her, she scrambled away from him, genuine terror on her face and screamed at him not to touch her. When he backed off, upset, her eyes darted around the room until they fell on the others who were all just standing frozen in surprise. 

“Bellamy?” She asked, right before her eyes rolled back into her head.

His heart had stuttered, because she sounded so much like Clarke. And the way she’d been looking at him… it didn’t feel like Josephine, it felt like Clarke. 

Then, she sat up, and Clarke was gone. Josephine glared at them all as if offended that someone hadn’t caught her when she fell or lifted her from the floor to keep her dress from wrinkling, and Bellamy felt his heart thud back into its normal rhythm. It couldn’t have been Clarke, not really. She was gone. 

He had to keep reminding himself. Every morning he woke up and for the briefest of seconds he forgot. When reality flooded in it was like a punch to the stomach, every time, so all day long he kept repeating to himself that she was gone, hoping that one day it would sink in and he wouldn’t have to go through that pain every day. 

Then, later in the afternoon when Russell and Simone were gone, Josephine had wobbled on her feet, lifting a hand to her temple right before she slid down the wall. She pushed herself up on her knees and when she glanced around warily at them all, she looked different again, more familiar. Bellamy couldn’t quite work out what was different, he just knew it was. 

She frowned at them, before glancing down to frown at her hands. 

“How is this possible?” She asked, voice shaking. “How can I possibly still be alive?”

They were all rooted to the spot in shock, but Raven was the first to snap out of it, throwing something down on the table with a large clatter. “Don’t you dare, Josephine, that’s evil. That’s _evil,_ even for you.”

Her head whipped around. “What did you just call me?”

“Evil.” 

“No…” She blinked slowly, like someone trying to adjust their vision in the sunlight, “I meant my name - what _name_ did you call me?”

Bellamy stepped forward, crouching down to match her eye level, and she sat up straighter, defiant in a different way than Josephine. He still wasn’t convinced though - he _couldn’t_ be. If he allowed himself to hope, it would be just enough to break him all over again - so he watched her face carefully. 

“Clarke?” His voice was low, practically a whisper, but she reacted like he’d yelled, whole body flinching back and her hands coming up to cover her face.

When she sat up again, she groaned, scrunching up her nose and scowling disdainfully up at them all. “I know you don’t like me, but you couldn’t at least be civilised enough to stop me from landing on the floor? Marble is hard, you know.”

Murphy made some kind of low growl in his throat and Emori placed a reassuring hand on his arm, but Bellamy was still just watching Josephine. Because for a moment, the tiniest moment, he was _certain_ he’d seen Clarke in those blue eyes. 

So for the rest of the afternoon and into the night, when they were all sitting at a table in the bar, he observed her behaviour - searching for something, _anything,_ to prove to himself that he was just going crazy and that his best friend was gone. 

It was getting late; hours had passed without so much as a twitch from Josephine and Bellamy was finally starting to convince himself that he’d imagined the whole thing when she clutched at her head and cried out in pain. All of them, Raven, Murphy, Emori, Miller, Echo, Madi and even Gaia looked like they were trying not to reach out to her. It didn’t matter how much they hated Josephine, it was hard to watch her in pain when she was wearing the face of someone they loved. 

Her eyes flew open.

They flitted around the table before landing on Bellamy and sticking there. 

“Bellamy?” She asked, voice soft and hoarse and so very _Clarke_ that his eyes started filling with tears, unbidden. She lifted her left hand to her eye. “I don’t think I have much time, she’s still in here.”

“Who?” Emori asked. 

“Josephine. She’s stuck in here with me.”

Madi heaved a tear-soaked gasp. “Clarke?!”

Bellamy shook his head vehemently, as if that would help things. “No, this is impossible, you can’t be alive, Clarke, you _can’t._ You _died.”_

“Yeah, I thought so too.” She winced, fingers trailing down her chin and around to the back of her neck. “I felt it. But then… I wasn’t. I woke up somewhere, uh, familiar, it was like… like all my memories shoved into a box at the back of a cupboard, and I was in it too. It’s hard to explain. I’ve been trying to get out for days, but Josephine’s too strong.”

“I don’t believe you.” Bellamy snapped. “You can’t possibly be her, she’s dead, you murdered her.”

 _“Russell_ murdered me.”

“Stop it!” He growled, fist slamming into the table and disrupting all their drinks, and she flinched back a little at his anger and grief and pain. He felt someone rest a reassuring hand on his, but he shook it off, still glaring across at the woman he refused to recognise. 

She shook her head, imploring. “I promise it’s me Bellamy, I swear.”

“Prove it.” Surprisingly, it wasn’t him who spoke, but Miller, and she turned to him in surprise. 

“How am I supposed to do that?” 

“Tell us something only Clarke would know.” He said.

“But how am I supposed to know what Josephine has been told?” She frowned, wracking her brains. 

“Doesn’t matter. What’s the kind of thing that Clarke wouldn’t tell anyone except the people at this table? Something only you know, something someone at this table would know but wouldn’t tell anyone else either.” He said, and Bellamy knew Miller meant _him,_ and he knew that she noticed it too. 

She twisted her fingers together on the table, thinking, before she spoke. “After Praimfaya, I, I called Bellamy on the radio. Every day, for 2199 days. Only you and Madi know that.”

His heart stopped.

He was dimly aware that the others were reacting to the information, but he didn’t care because this was Clarke, his Clarke, and she was alive. 

“And… uh,” she paused, eyes slowly lifting back up to meet his, “I need you, Bellamy.”

His heart felt like it was going to burst, but he refused to let it start again because he wanted to live in this moment for as long as possible - where Clarke was _alive_ and he could see it in her eyes and she needed him and he loved her and she loved him back and he didn’t have to lose her again. 

But of course, he couldn’t. 

She slumped against her hand, face contorting in pain, and Bellamy wished his heart _would_ just explode so he didn’t have to see her go through that again.

“I don’t have much time,” she panted, “Josephine’s coming back, but I just… I needed you to know. I’m still in here, Bellamy. Don’t give up hope yet - we’re still breathing.”

Then she was gone and Josephine was irritably grimacing in her place, oblivious to the shockwave that had just rippled through Clarke’s friends. 

Bellamy felt a small hand reach out and grip his under the table, and he squeezed it gently, refusing to turn and look at Madi because he knew if he did they would both start crying. 

His heart stumbled to a start again. 

Clarke was alive. They were still breathing. He still had hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all liked it!! This is the first of my s6 tumblr drabbles, which I will be posting in this as separate chapters, because they're not really long enough for individual fics, so I hope you like them, even if they are a little shorter than my usual fare!!
> 
> comments fan me like a banana leaf in hot weather

**Author's Note:**

> Comments power the Mind Drive of the villainous woman occupying my body.


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